Have you ever been so tired on the weekend that you just couldn’t go to theatre, shop, visit a museum or brunch at a divine new restaurant?

OMG, such a dilemma and hardcore evidence of a tragic first world problem.

Is it a sin in the big city to stay home on a Saturday?

If so, I am guilty of committing a cultural crime.

After spin class and a long walk in the Park with Finnley, we crashed.

We climbed into bed, gorged on takeout Chinese and binge watched the new season of, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.

The series is outstanding and the production quality is off the charts.

The segments shot in Paris are intoxicating.

The characters are more fully exposed and explored this season.

Mrs. Maisel is a dichotomy…at once a traditional, conventional housewife in the late 1950’s and on the flip side, a woman exploring her sense of self as a potty mouth stand up comedienne.

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is marvelous and conveys a sense of magical realism.

What really resonated with me were the episodes shot in the Catskills.

My grandparents used to round me up and take me to the glamorous, iconic Grossinger’s Catskill Resort, a mainstay for decades in upstate New York.

My mom would pack 2 suitcases filled with outfits for every occasion, but the Empress Syd (my grandmother forbid the use of the moniker, grandmother) demanded high fashion on an ever revolving basis.

Syd would go on a retail therapy spree, gathering all the gorgeous dresses (pants were considered unchic) at the glamorous resort store as she literally had me changing every 2 hours.

She would carry 8×10 glossies of me and hand out to prospective suitor’s mothers…this all occurred during the ages of 8-12.

She wanted to guarantee that I was married by my mid-twenties and it was never too early to begin the quest.

I had no clue what she was up to for the longest time.

When a teenage boy approached me and told me he had seen my photo, I almost died…the ever stylish, eternally upbeat Syd was a true character.

Tearing myself away from Mrs. Maisel, we quickly dressed and headed out in the frigid weather to catch the 3 train to Brooklyn for a night out at Sociale, our favorite restaurant owned by the charming Italian import, Francesco.

Eggplant Parmigiana

Well, the “other man” in my life is now committed to another.

The happy couple were recently engaged in the city of love and are joining forces right after Christmas.

I am sure the union will be as deliciously satisfying as the cuisine at Sociale.

A casual, relatively unplanned Saturday in New York City can prove to be spontaneous and entertaining.